Eru
by Sougishiki
Summary: With the aid of an ancient map, Mihael and Mail travel into the Wilds to find the place known to them only as 'Eru' and descover how their world came crashing down. AU, Name Spoilers


**Update/News: **_This news will be cross posted on the next chapter of SoG:_ I am back. I will be working on updating but cannot promise a steady schedule. Please check my profile for updates.

* * *

"Why are we doing this again?" the words were accompanied by the fall of loose scree and cursing as booted feet lost their purchase on the steep slope.

"This," yellowed paper flashed in a weak ray of sunlight that had filtered through the canopy high above, "This will lead us to a Before City. We get there and maybe we can figure out why the world ended."

Jumping down from the ridge, the first man spoke again, "It's not like this will be the first Before City found, Mihael. I don't see why we have to go this far into the Wild for a ruin that's probably just dust now."

Branches and vines were pushed away as the two made their way forward, "No one's found this one. Everything will still be there."

"Sure Mihael. Just stay in sight, kay? I'm no good with navigating."

"Mihael? Come on, where'd you go?" Mail spun around, taking in the clearing. Where had that bastard run off to? How could he leave him here, mapless and lost? He was going to kill him when he found him!

Something rustled in the brush behind him and Mail whirled around to see form shambling out of the dim shadows. Immediately, the redhead was on his guard, only lowering it when he recognized the golden hair and black leather of his partner. The other man didn't seem to notice him or the murderous glare that was pinned on him. Instead, his attention was directed at something held very close to his down turned face. Mail blinked. Was that a flower? Was Mihael Keehl, all around genius badass, sniffing a flower?

He shook his head, Oh well; he was still going to kill him, "Mihael!" No answer. "Mihael!" Louder this time, and still no reaction. A dark blue eye twitched behind orange goggles, 'Ok, we'll try this again.' "Mihael Keehl! Get your leather-clad ass out of the clouds! Where the hell did you go? You can't just leave me here..."

The rest of Mail's words fizzled out as the blonde in front of him looked up. And smiled. "Are you high?"

No answer. Mihael just had that dopey smile on his face, grey-blue eyes foggy and half-lidded. He had to admit, that smile was really freaking him out. It just wasn't natural for his friend to smile like that. It was far too…absent.

"Oh yeah, you are so baked. How the... it's that flower, isn't it? What the heck is that anyway?" He stepped forward, reaching out to grasp the stem and pull the plant away.

Quicker than he thought possible, Mihael's right hand darted forward and snatched the other's wrist, while his left held the flower against his nose. His eyes were sharper, though still clouded. His smile was gone, too, replaced by a familiar scowl. Deftly, too much so for his state, he moved his hand into position to drag Mail behind him as he turned and walked back the way he had come. Stunned, the begoggled brunet followed complacently as his friend maneuvered through the brush and dodged low branches, never speaking. Occasionally they passed vines laden with the type of flower Mihael held, and he would stop, drop his, and pick another. The leather wearing blond never spoke, or otherwise acknowledged Mail's existence, but did not let his wrist go.

Silently, they ducked under a low branch choked by ivy and found themselves in a long, narrow clearing, about twenty feet wide and stretching into the distance on each side before curving. Mihael paused only long enough to glance to each side before turning right and following the odd path. The ground was oddly hard, and Mail glanced down to see cracked blackness, overgrown with grass and mosses. 'It's a road,' he realized. 'A Before Road.' Roads that had been made in the last hundred years had been of cobbles or packed earth, often joining with remnants of Before Roads to create an odd patchwork among the towns and cities that had formed amongst the Ruins of Before.

Long before Mail's birth had come the Before. People had been better off then, with machines that worked for them and moved them quickly between places. There had been more people, billions of them the elders said, but Mail wasn't sure he believed them. Surely that many people couldn't exist on one world? But that had been a century ago, and the oldest elders had been small children at the time. Now, no one knew for sure what had happened. That was why Mihael had dragged him out into the Wild with only an old map to help them find 'Eru.'

And damn him, Mihael still had that map.

'Alright, I think this has gone on long enough,' they had been following the Before road for about an hour now and Mihael had stopped to change flowers every ten times. This one was almost due to be tossed. Stubbornly, Mail dragged his feet, slowing Mihael who turned to see why he was trying to stop. Gritting his teeth, the smaller brunet launched his free hand at his friend's face. Reflexes dulled by the flower's effects, the blond was caught off guard and released Mail's hand as he fell backward onto the hard asphalt. Mail was on him in a moment, prying the flower from his hand. He had almost succeeded when Mihael came to his drugged senses and reared up, swinging with his free hand and landing a blow across Mail's face. The two fell back and grappled for a time, Mihael now employing both hands and disregarding the loss of his flower. Though Mail's task was done, he still fought, unable to get away, and the two combatants writhed across he road, scattering dirt and fallen branches.

Mail found himself under Mihael when they finally came to a stop, his arms locked with the blonde's. Gasping, he threw his weight to overthrow his opponent and cried out as the ground fell out from underneath them and cold water splashed over them. Shocked into awareness, Mihael reared up from the water, flinging icy water on Mail, sitting chest deep in the creek a foot away.

"What the hell?" were the first words to come out of his mouth, along with the creek's water. It struck Mail as funny, his sobered companion sitting in the cold water, looking much like a half-drowned cat in his ruined leather and sopping hair. Now it was Mihael's turn to think something was odd about his long time friend who was laughing hysterically for no apparent reason.

The only response Mail gave his look was a dripping slap on the back as he continued to laugh, tears now pooling in his skewed goggles to roll down his cheeks.

"Are you high or something?" Mail could only laugh harder.

When they finally climbed out of the roadside creek, apparently originally a drainage ditch, they found Mihael's ancient map torn and soggy. Fortunately, if they were extremely careful, parts of it could still be read and by examining it discovered that if they kept going on this road, they should reach Eru within the hour.

They tossed around ideas about the Before as they walked, Mail in front of Mihael, walking backwards with his hands behind his head, "Elder Jenna said there were millions of us, way more than there are now, but I'm not sure how that'd be possible."

Mihael was looking up into the trees as he thought, "Maybe we're thinking too small. It's entirely possible that there are whole continents out there we've forgotten. It's not like we still have the level of communication the Before had."

"True. And if that's true, then think about all the other survivors there must be. If we could only contact all of them, gather what we all know, imagine what we could figure out again."

The pair was silent for a time, before Mail spoke again, "I wonder…I know we were affected so much that we lost everything, but what about elsewhere? Maybe…maybe somewhere there's places that survived?"

Idea began building up again as each wondered what the rest of the world was like until their ideas became so fantastic that they started over and built them up anew. They spent the rest of the hour thusly, only stopping when they came to a set of twisted iron gates and a tall, if rusted, fence. Some ways behind the fence stood a crumbling, four storey Before building. Once it had been magnificent, a sprawling mansion with columns standing guard before its grand double doors. It was truly ancient, however, having been merely very old at the time when the Before ended and the After began.

"Is this it? I don't see a sign," Mihael, of course the first to speak, was already scrutinizing the warped metal, "Help me out would you? I can't see anything under all this ivy."

Mail moved to do so unconsciously, still in awe of the building and accustomed to following his friend's lead. Soon the ivy choking the gate lay in a knee-deep pile and still there was no sign of a sign. It was Mihael, of course, who gave up the search first, throwing down a handful of dense ivy with a muted almost-scream, declaring the task 'inane and pointless' before stalking through the listing gate. He didn't bother glancing back, he knew Mail would follow. The grounds were eerily quiet, devoid of any sound save that of wind in the few, century-old trees. There were no words between them, both feeling the almost oppressive air to the property and unwillingly thinking of the ghost tales their parents had told them. They didn't mention the way the grounds had been taken care of, no weeds, even the grass cut perfectly.

Recently.

It was as if, Mail mused, the Wild forest had stopped at the gate, unwilling to continue. He didn't blame it. They continued up the wide drive, walking around the fountain, it's clear water still, but clean, and to the wide stone steps that lead up through the columns and to the great doors.

Still, the two said nothing, not even when Mail gripped the hem of Mihael's ruined jacket. They stopped only long enough to examine the area before pushing the heavy doors open. The interior was as lavish as the grounds, with two wide staircases curling to a balcony that lead to the rest of the second floor. The carpet under their feet was clean and soft, woven long ago in elegant patterns. The electric chandelier high above was unlit, and daylight swept through the myriad windows that cut through the thick silk wallpaper. The young men noticed none of this. Their attention was only for the figure standing under the magnificent crystal chandelier, between the broad staircases.

"Would it be too terribly startling if I said I've been expecting you?"

His answer was incoherent, and not-at-all-girly, screams.

All things must end, and the screaming was no exception. The thin man had not spoken again, seemingly content to wait out the noise. Mihael had pulled a dagger sometime during the scream and held it threateningly at him, but he pointedly ignored it. When a minute had passed and nothing had come of it, no attack, no words or threatening movements, the volatile blond lowered the blade, but did not sheathe it while he and Mail examined the stranger.

He was skeletally thin and pale, and hunched over as he was, he looked like a patient afflicted by some vicious disease. Large, bruised eyes looked out from scraggly black hair. He rather looked like a caricature of a man, especially with the bare wires showing in his literally fleshless jaw.

Funny, he was just now noticing that.

His face wasn't the only place metal showed, either. The 'flesh' on bare feet had long since worn away, leaving scuffed steel and tatters of whatever material had originally covered them. And when a long fingered hand slipped out of a raggedy pocket to absent-mindedly rub a gaunt cheek, the false skin moved irregularly, sliding loosely over presumably metal bones.

Odd, they weren't panicking yet.

The creature was dressed in what was once clothing, now merely rags, obviously form sometime Before. Once they had been superbly woven of white cotton and blue denim, whereas now their hems and seams had unraveled or torn, leaving barely functioning drapes of cloth. In some places, they had been tied together, as on one shoulder, giving them a further ancient appearance. Maybe they were in shock?

"Are you going to keep standing there? You're here for a reason, aren't you?" his voice was deep and almost jagged in places. Like static. It did what it was intended to, though, knocking the young men out of their stupor. Great drafts of air were drawn in, but before they could scream again the static-filled voice broke through, "Please don't scream. It is quite loud."

Unborn shrieks turned into shuddering sighs as the air was let out. Wary eyes tracked the not-man as he finally moved, turning to shamble up the curving stairs. And he was shambling, they noted. Perhaps he was more…broken then he appeared? Glancing at Mihael in askance and receiving a nod in return, Mail strode after his leader past the faded pictures lining the stair.

The odd group had just turned the first corner into a main hallway when, unprovoked, the thing leading them spoke:

"Near built me, in likeness to his predecessor, L. He built two others as well, Matt and Mello, his peers. He lost all of them in his war against Kira. I think, perhaps, that he grew lonely in the end..." the creature drifted off, thumb resting thoughtfully between his teeth.

"What was Kira?" Ever practical, Mail thought, Mihael always cut straight to the heart of the issue, no matter what he had to cut through to get there.

In any case, it didn't seem to mind, "Kira was a murderer who held the power of Death over the world. He killed the world's criminals and all those who tried to stop him also perished. His goal was to create a new world, one of his making, where he was god and only his chosen lived. According to Near, he very nearly succeeded."

Mail's turn, "If Near made three of you, where are the other two?"

L, should they call him that? He had said he was based on 'L', appeared almost sad, "Mello…broke, soon after the Wars hit London. A dud bomb landed on the grounds. Mello went out to dispose of it and when he attempted to move it, it went off. Destroyed almost all of his lower body. Near tried to fix him, but he had grown old and there were no longer available materials. Everything had gone into the War. When Near died and it became clear Mello would never be fixed, Matt short-circuited himself. He told me he could not bear to exist without his friend. I have been here ever since."

Silence reigned for a moment more while L mourned, or seemed to, and Mihael and Matt decided on their next question, "Was the War what ended the Before?"

"I have never heard of the 'Before', but I assume what you are referring to is the time before the War began and civilization was lost?"

L didn't look back to see their nods but continued as if he had, "Of course. Yes, the War _did_ end the 'Before'. When Kira died, or disappeared as the world saw it, they turned on each other. Each blamed the others for Kira's rule and all blamed Japan, Kira's birthplace. It was not long before everyone was fighting everyone else."

"How did they stop it?" Both boys were hanging on every word, thrilled with the knowledge dangling before them.

Now the creature stopped and turned to them, eyes shuttered and cold, "They _did not _stop the War. They just killed and killed until everyone was _dead_." The proclamation was cold enough to freeze any further conversation as they continued down the hall to a heavy wood door, at which L stopped and entered.

There was no electric light here, but shafts of sun slipped through ragged curtains and dusty air, falling in the end on carpets and tables and _bookshelves_. Shelves filled with books. Books from the Before. Behind L, Mihael and Mail were in awe. This was beyond what they had hoped to find. This was a whole library of precious knowledge. This was…priceless. Between the high shelves were tables, desks, chairs, and sofas. On many of the dusty desks were oddly shaped boxes and flat sheets of plastic, a material whose making was long lost to modern society.

"What are these?" It was Mail that spoke, already moving to the relics and running gently curious fingertips over them. The plastic resting flat on the desk had buttons, many, many buttons, and not much else. The upright rectangular boxes had a few buttons and a handful of slots, while the thin, vertical pieces had maybe one button and were covered by glass.

"They were computers, devices to store and share knowledge. They ran with electricity, which has long since turned off. You need not be concerned with them," they were all standing around the computer Mail had been inspecting. At the robot's words, his face fell and he let his hands fell off the ancient keyboard. Perhaps sensing his guest's distress, L continued, "You are, however, free to browse the books here. Whammy's House had accumulated quite the collection before it shut down."

This stopped the young men in their tracks, "Whammy's House? The map labeled this place 'Eru,'" Mihael's voice was rough and Mail could see the tension running through his shoulders and jaw. His eyes had turned fierce and if looks could kill, the creature before them would be a puddle of molten metal.

L's only response to the blond's anger was a slow, owlish blink and a thumb clenched in thought, "Map? Who could have…ah…Matt. This must be his doing. Perhaps you will meet him after all."

Two voices spoke at once, one confused, the other still rough with anger, "I thought you said he was broken?" "What do you mean, 'his doing'?"

There was that slow blink again, "After Mello exploded, Matt was desperate to fix him. I have no doubt he would have done something like this. He no doubt thought of it as some great quest for whoever found it. And yes, he is broken. However, due to our unusual nature he and Mello are still in residence here. I think, perhaps, that you should meet them."

With that, he turned and hobbled from the room.

The black haired robot called the new room 'Near's workroom' and workroom it was. Walls were disguised behind cabinets of all sizes, faded posters, and schematics. The floor space was crowded with worktables, many still covered with mislaid tools and bits of unfinished projects. Lumpy dark shadows lay on a set of adjoining tables near the back, and this was where L led them. He carried a candle in his hand now, for it was growing dark outside and the light in the workroom was already dim. Wax dripped onto the wood of the table and the candle placed into it before it cooled, leaving it to shed light on the immediate area. Warm yellow light glanced off cold metal and shone more softly on false skin. What appeared to be two young men lay on there, one curled on his side, the other on his back. What remained of his back. While the first was intact and almost appeared to be sleeping, the other was a mess of wires and shrapnel from the middle of his abdomen and lower. It wasn't their bodies that made the humans' breath catch, it was their faces.

"They…they look like us," Mihael's voice was uncharacteristically faint and Mail dragged his eyes away from the makeshift beds to sneak a look at his friend. He was paler then usual, though he didn't blame him for it. They really did look alike, though, he thought, turning back to the odd sight before them. The 'sleeping' figure had hair that was only slightly redder than his and his face was exactly the same. He wore orange goggles, reminiscent of Mail's and a striped shirt over jeans and combat boots. He lay on his side, turned towards the other, one long-fingered hand extended in his direction, as if reaching for him. Where Matt was completely intact, Mello was the opposite. All that was left of him was his upper right arm, most of his left arm, not quite down to his wrist, and a large portion of his torso, along with his face. He had obviously been in a bad explosion; black leather vest charred and parts of his skin burned away to the metal underneath. His face had been damaged as well, but the similarities between he and Mihael was still very clear. He had Mihael's blond hair (or did Mihael have his?) and his facial structure. Even in his death, he had a frown n his face, small enough to be almost unnoticeable.

"Yes, that's rather what I thought when I saw you," L's voice was flat and emotionless, as it had been all throughout the day.

"Why? Why do they look so much like us?" It didn't matter which of them spoke, they were both thinking the same thing.

"I would propose a distant relative if it were not for the fact that the original Matt and Mello died childless."

"What about other family members?"

L blinked, "Oh. I forget sometimes, that you don't know about Whammy's House."

"Only because you never told us, "Mello had not forgotten the earlier evasion.

"I am telling you now. Whammy's House was an orphanage for geniuses. All the children raised here, including the original L, Matt, Mello, and Near, were orphans."

There was silence for a time while Mihael and Mail put together the pieces they could, but there were so many pieces of information missing, starting with: "Who was Near? You never told us," Mail was almost whispering, perhaps in some convoluted respect for the dead.

It seemed L had no such respect, "Near was a detective. He became 'N' after L was killed by Kira. He was the one to finish L's work and bring him down. When the Wars broke out, he retreated here to make his base. Whammy's House stayed active for many more years, only closing after it became impossible to support the children and keep them safe. By that time Near was dead and the Wars had begun in earnest."

"He was powerful then, to affect things so much?"

L's head cocked to the side, "I suppose you could say that. When he inherited L's title, he inherited great respect as a genius who could solve any case he chose. Countries around the world relied on him until the day he died. Then they went for each other's throats."

While Mail was eager for the impromptu history lesson to continue, Mihael was not. While L was talking, he had made his way back to the workroom door, "Coming, Mail? I'm going back to the library."

With a glance back to their strange host, the brunet followed him out into the hall, "Would it have hurt to have stayed? I'm sure he could tell us the important things faster than picking through the library. We're running out of time here and you know it." They both did. Their trip to Whammy's House had been unannounced to the rest of the village who would surely be looking for them by now.

With a sigh, Mihael sank into a centuries-old sofa, "Do you think Lawliet and Nate have found our trail yet?"

Mail collapsed next to him amid a cloud of dust, "I don't know. Hey, Mihael, something's been bugging me about L."

"Shoot."

"Does he remind you of anyone? Because I swear he's Lawliet's twin or something," his voice trailed off. "Mihael? L said he was based on the original L from the Before and we look exactly like Mello and Matt. You don't think…"

"That whatever links us to them links Lawliet to L? possible, I suppose. Whole thing creeps me out…" With that he stood, walking over to a case of books and beginning to peruse. After rubbing tired eyes, Mail joined him and soon they had covered two of the library desks with books to look through. They read of skyscrapers, cars, computers, and all manner of things that no longer existed. They stopped only when the candles had burned themselves out and the sun began to rise, shedding light through the high windows.

Mail sighed, rubbing a hand over tired eyes, "We need to leave. We can come back later, but for now…"

"Yes, when they find us…"

Two voices spoke at once, "We're dead."

Their farewells to L were short, mostly thanks for the library and promises to come again soon, with others. L left them at the gates, one waving hand curiously covered with a tattered gardener's glove. There was no talk on the way back, each thinking both on what they had read and the punishment to come for their endeavor. As it turned out, it was only an hour and a half before they crossed paths with the hunting party.

At the head of the party, perched on two of the village's highly prized horses, were two men. One looked markedly uncomfortable astride in the saddle, thin mouth turned down and back hunched. The man next to him was his opposite in many ways, sitting straight and confident in his saddle. Both men had brown hair, though of two very different shades. They were brilliant people, these two, and managed the village together, despite their many arguments. The rest of the party closed around the four of them, more for protection from the Wild then any other reason.

"And just where have you two been?" It was the second man that spoke, Light. He was younger then Lawliet, but didn't let that stop him from working and competing with him.

There was a definite smirk on Mihael's face as he answered, for he and Light had never liked each other, "Where is Nate, Lightning Bug? I'm sure you'll all want to see this!"


End file.
